


The New York Tunnel Society

by island-mountain-glacier (Obscurity)



Series: Demons!AU [1]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demons!AU, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obscurity/pseuds/island-mountain-glacier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Rating for demonic subject matter, I might alter it if I decide to delve further into gore since that's apparently a thing I do.<br/>Not very shippy at first, but it'll develop more with time--I promise.)</p><p>Henry Morgan's been fighting dark forces for nearly a century now, and James is just happy he can be here to help him along for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i didn't mean for this to become a thing but then it did so i'm exploring this universe even more now  
> so um  
> expect more with time  
> including modern day stuff  
> with lots more time

James held the old map up to lantern Henry was holding and compared the vast network of tunnels to what he saw before him.

"I think we should go left?" he asked, hazarding a guess.

It was fairly obvious that his friend had had quite enough of the underground, but instead of trying to solve the problem himself, as he usually did, Henry simply followed James, no matter what path he suggested they take. It was nice on James's self esteem, but it provided no aid to their current predicament.

James flinched as they rounded another corner and he noticed the chalk mark he'd left on the wall.

"You to have a better sense of direction than I, my friend," he said, turning to Henry and offering the map. "I do believe I have had us walking in circles for a while now."

"I can give it a try," Henry replied, accepting the map and handing the lamp over to James. From the not well hidden note of humor in his friend's voice, he must have been amused by James's shortcomings.

"You were correct here," said Henry, taking a few steps forward and looking around a corner, the same one James had taken when they'd been at this point last. "But I think," he continued, holding the map back up to the light when James had caught up with him, "that this turn was supposed to be a right."

James squinted at the map. The fading charcoal was barely visible on the page but still just barely readable. In the poor lighting, it was easily understandable how he could have misread it. Still, he did feel a pang of shame for having led them down the wrong corridor. "I see," he said, moving the lamp so that its light shone down the tunnel Henry had referred to. The bricks that made up the wall were slightly older than the ones in the tunnels they been in prior.

"Look at the ceiling," Henry said, and James lifted the lamp up higher, hoping the flame would light the places he was referring to. "This style of architecture was most likely done by an independent contractor," he continued. "Someone apart from the government. It's likely what we're looking for is further down this way."

James grinned, the excitement in Henry's voice lifting his mood some. His mistakes forgotten, he replied with a hearty, "Wonderful!" and trailed after his friend as they delved further into the tunnels.

What felt like hours of trekking in the murky darkness was, in reality, only minutes. Before meeting Henry, James had a tendency to always keep on eye on the time. It helped him pace out his day, to proceed with the proper caution without having to worry about rushing to do something at the last minute. When he and Henry had grown from being acquaintances to close friends, he'd ended up breaking his schedule more often than he felt he ought, while his watch, ever ticking, remained on his wrist ignored.

Judging from the way Henry had opened up over the years, he came to an understanding that Henry had done much of the same. Both had been rather serious men, focused primarily on their career path, though James had been the more carefree of the two of then. Their friendship had led to a mutual releasing of tension within each other's lives that James was endlessly thankful for. Though death was ever imminent in their line of work, James was reminded of what it was like to live.

"I do believe this is it," Henry said. He was examining the brick wall at the end of the tunnels, holding up the lamp that he'd taken from James. James was kneeling at the bottom of the wall, picking at the peeling white paint that had covered this wall alone, looking for a hint to trigger the door.

"I couldn't see anything else that it could be," he replied. "All signs point to here." He paused to remove another chip from the wall, exposing a dull reddish-brown. "I just can't tell how we're supposed to open the door."

Henry paused then, extending both hands across the wall, pushed heavily on two of the bricks. The wall groaned, and James stood up promptly, stumbling backwards as it retreated to the left, revealing a long corridor. James peered into the darkness for a moment before turning to exchange a mutual surprised glance with Henry.

"Did you know that would happen?" James asked his friend.

"It was a guess," Henry offered, his shoulders raising slightly, hinting at a shrug, "albeit an educated one." He handed James the lamp and took the map out from under his arm, unrolling it and taking a few hazardous steps forward.

James followed soon after and took the lead, holding the lamp up to illuminate as much of the corridor as he could.

"No traps," Henry confirmed, lowering the map to examine the floor. "Whoever was here last was fairly certain of the safety of this location."

"A fallacy, surely," James commented, moving the lamp down a bit so its light shone down on a few, huddled together skeletons leaning against the wall.

Henry replied with slight bob of his head and their conversation melted into silence. They continued onwards until they reached the end of the corridor and were greeted by the sight of a rotting wooden door with heavily rusted over hinges.

Carefully, James took the lamp in his left hand and pulled a handkerchief out from his pocket. He placed it on the door handle and gave it an experimental twist. It moved unwillingly in his grip, fighting him as he tried to pry the door open. The hinges protested, groaning loudly. James handed the lamp over to Henry and took the door handle in both hands, forcing it open at last. 

It opened to a small room with an old desk pushed back into the far right corner of the room. The left wall was covered in a series of bookshelves, all stocked with well worn books. 

"It does exist," James said breathily as Henry entered, affixing the lamp to a hook screwed into the ceiling.

"The map was real, James," Henry replied. He'd folded up the map and set it on the table. He'd taken one of the books from the bookshelves and was turning the pages with a gentle reverence. He closed it carefully and replaced it, turning back to his friend. "James," he said, repeating his friend's name excitedly, "this means we have a chance!"

Dizzy with relief, James stumbled into the room and drew his friend into a warm hug. For all the time that their enemy loomed before them, powerful and undefeatable, this would finally be a step towards success. Here sat their chances to no longer fight a loosing battle.

"I can't believe it," he murmured into Henry's shoulder. "Oh, this is almost too good to be true." Giving him one more quick squeeze, James pulled back and walked over to the desk, leafing through the writings that had yet to be compiled into a proper codex. "Look at this," he said, holding up several of the pages and handing one of them to Henry. "No more nearly dying each time we try to take on a demon!"

They spent the next several hours going through the books and loose papers, organizing the notes and the books in a system that worked better for them than the room's previous occupants.

"We could establish a headquarters here," James noted, looking about the room. "It's a bit inconvenient to get to, but a bit of fixing up could make this place a perfect hideaway." He gave Henry a pointed look. "And everyone knows that you certainly do have enough furniture to supply this small room quite adequately."

Henry shrugged, a small grin taking hold of his face. James figured he'd probably feel this victory more than anyone. After nearly a century of fighting a one sided battle, just him against all the power of hell, he'd now come so far as to learn that he wasn't truly alone in this war and that his arsenal had multiplied threefold.

James's own role had been, to this point, rather small, but he was eager to jump right into the thick of things. It was by no means easy, but he felt the whole struggle was just about worth it.

"How much of this do you know?" he asked. He'd moved on from the table and returned to the bookshelves, taking out one of the newly dusted off books. The spine read The Uses of Blessed Objects. It seemed relevant enough, despite the fact that their own demon hunting paraphernalia was rather small. The spell books would, most likely, pack a much heavier punch.

"A surprising little of what's been saved here," Henry replied. "The Morgan Family was a painfully more Euro-centric with their organization, and everything I learned from them I learned in the a span of about three years."

James nodded. Henry didn't speak of his family much. Apparently they'd been a rather formidable force against demonic powers back in the 18th century, however, they'd been infiltrated, compromised, and were eventually destroyed a few years before Henry had become immortal. It had been a wholly unpleasant situation, especially for Henry, as it had been his own father that had fallen first to temptation.

"It's nice," James said, breaking the silence that had formed between them. When Henry looked up, mildly confused, he continued. "That we're able to do this," he said. "That we can help people like this, especially with how little people know about dark forces and all that."

"Yes," Henry replied softly. "It is nice isn't it?"   
Henry was a man that had seen too much, but at the same time, he was the kind of man that wouldn't let things pass. He would obsess continually about 'what ifs' and 'should haves' that James had started to realize that he would need to help Henry out of a lot of emotional ruts. 

"Imagine what we can do with all of this," James said, gesturing widely. "You don't even need to imagine it. Whatever it is, it can be done, and we will do it."

He could see the seed of hope take place in Henry's heart as his face muscles slowly worked themselves into something of a joyous revelation. The happiness returned to James's own warmly fluttering heart.

\--

The dust in the room was thick, but Henry and James had taken extra measures to make sure that it wasn't just thrown back up into the air again. It was hard to resist the urge to blow off the thick grey covering that seemed to blanket the entire room, though.

"Do you think we could extend the room a bit?" James asked, examining the dimensions of the room. It was a rather small place, definitely taking the role of a small study at most. He doubted anyone had spent more than a week down here at a time before developing a strong urge to return to the surface for space and fresh air. He'd taken a large book into his hands be he'd yet to open it.

"I believe it would be possible," Henry replied, "though it would be terribly hard work for just the two of us."

James lifted an eyebrow. "What, you think I'm not strong enough to do whatever needs to be done?" he asked, a hint of humor seeping into his voice. They had both been doctors before entering their more esoteric profession, and their fighting abilities when they had started had been clumsy at best. Though they'd both gained a bit of muscle over the past few months they'd been working together, they were by no means particularly strong people.

"James," Henry replied with a similar good humor. "You're struggling with that encyclopedia, yet you still claim to be able to go through the entire expansion process?"

James shrugged and shoved the heavy encyclopedia back into the shelves. "There were a few other passageways in the corridor after the secret entrance, right?" he asked. "Maybe there are a few vacant rooms over there that we can start to set stuff up in."

Henry nodded. There was a fondness and a calmness in his eyes as he surveyed the room once again.

"This is the start of something great," James reassured him, walking over to stand next to him. "I'm glad to be here as part of it."

"You've assured me of your willingness many time," Henry began. "But I must remind you of the dangers--"

James cut him off by raising a hand to silence him. "I've got a feeling I'm not going to last that long anyways, no matter what my profession is," he told him. "I'd like to do something with what's left of it that I can be proud of."

Henry smiled him warmly, and James returned it. "You're too good a man," Henry said. "The world doesn't deserve you."

"Nor you," James replied, pulling Henry closer into a brief one handed hug. "Yet here we both are, fighting for it."

This drew a laugh out of Henry that provided a small boost to James's confidence. Henry seemed to be awfully capable of bringing James back up and he sincerely hoped that perhaps he could provide some of the same solace for the other man.

"Come now," James said, letting his hand rest on Henry's shoulder as he guided the other man towards the door. "I think it's about time we take a well deserved break."


	2. Furnace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a run in with a spirit in a furnace.  
> James worries.  
> I'm bad with summaries. Give me a better one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha the hotel has wifi. goodbye my friends perhaps i shall see you in a week
> 
> Demons!AU Encyclopedia Entry  
> Spirits (AKA 'ghosts') have two tiers of strength and are also only active during the night. They are generally the souls of people with unfinished business or something that were unable to pass on.  
> -The weaker ones rely on the power of whatever thing they inhabit (so it has to be fire or electricity or some such).  
> -The stronger ones can inhabit any objects but can gain additional strength by inhabiting things with energy.  
> -Neither can inhabit things that are alive.
> 
> Methods to deal with spirits include:  
> -Trained people can form mental links with these spirits and can force them to pass on to the afterlife. People with lots of experience can also find out more about the spirit while performing a mental link.  
> -In the event that a spirit is too strong/angry to be mentally passed, then locating a remnant of the person's life, dousing it in holy oil, and setting it alight will destroy the spirit. It won't pass, but it won't exist at all either. This is heavily frowned upon.  
> -There are other methods, but at this point they're not really worth mentioning.

The only source of light in the room came from the burning coals in the furnace. The rest of the bakery was pitch dark. Even the soft glow of the street side lamps outside failed to reach very far in the moonless night.

Henry was silent as he raised his arm to stop James from walking any further into the back of the shop.

James opened his mouth to ask why, but Henry raised a finger to his lips, a movement that James barely caught. 

Henry jerked his head slightly towards the direction of the stove, a vague sort of gesture, but James understood.

He squinted into the darkness training his eyes on the coals. A dark shadow flickered over them and James wondered for a brief moment if the light would go out. Henry probably already knew what the being was, but given that verbal communication would most likely give away their presence, James decided to sort through the mental archive in his head.

It probably wasn't a full-fledged demon, as the more numerous sort were prone to human or animal possession while he doubted they'd find one strong enough to have its own corporeal body in a mere bakery. It was likely, then, that they were having run in with some form of spirit. A recently deceased being that had some form of unfinished business. Considering it had only lashed out at the baker, now hospitalized with rather serious burns, it was most likely human.

Thankfully, this meant that it could be reasoned with. Unthankfully, it was also likely extremely angry and would thus be really difficult to appease. Cleaning up little messes like this were and would always be commonplace. Too many people died unsatisfied, especially in this day and age. Upsides included the fact that it had become routine. Downsides included the fact that there was always the chance of death.

James closed his eyes and tried to reach out, hoping Henry was doing the same. He had practice, but he wasn't nearly strong enough to carry the burden of an entire spirit's anger. James relaxed his arms at his sides and unclenched his fists, taking in deep breaths to try to slow the racing of his heart. The buzz of his mind calmed and he focused on what wasn't inside of him.

It was warm, hot—furious, so furious, the sort of unquenchable anger that James knew existed but never wanted to experience. If James hadn't recoiled, stumbling a few steps backwards to jerk himself out of his meditation, he wasn't entirely certain if he wouldn't be dragged down to hell, his soul left sizzling as it descended.

He tossed a frightened glance towards Henry whose eyes were squeezed shut, fists curled tightly at his sides. James watched in horror as a drop of blood dripped down Henry's forehead, tracing a red line down the side of his face.

"You need to stop," James whispered, taking hold of one of Henry's hands. He was uncertain if his words would make it through, but at least physical contact should be able to bring him back.

"...can't..." Henry managed to say from between clenched teeth after a moment's silence.

"Whoever this was is too angry for us to handle," James begged. “We can’t win this one!”

Henry shook his head, stubbornly refusing to give up on the spirit. There were other ways, of course, to rescue a spirit as strong as this, to help them pass, but the moral implications were rightly frowned upon.

Like most people, James knew little about the enigma that was Doctor Henry Morgan, but, after spending such an extended period of time with the man, he’d started to catch on to a few of his character traits. Among these were the man could occasionally be straight up obsessive, or, at the very least, admirably passionate. Another was the fact that Henry would risk almost anything to save another person.

Though most would consider this a good thing, James realized that, on occasion, Henry would often manage to take it a bit too far. If he kept going on like this, James wondered if Henry would actually die for good.

He had to intervene. Stopping only for a second to wonder if holy water would be effective, he quickly uncapped the bottle in his pocket and splashed it over the coals. They hissed as the fire died out, leaving only wet ashes behind.

Henry relaxed for only a second before letting out of soft cry and falling forwards. James rushed over to make sure that his friend didn’t hit the floor too heavily.

What a fine predicament this was. Henry, for the time being, was unconscious, and the spirit, probably not passed, and unlikely peaceful, had probably moved on to another place where he could continue to torment the baker. James, meanwhile, was completely uncertain of holy water’s effects on non-demonic, supernatural elements and was the only one left standing to clean up the mess.

James wondered, as he propped up Henry onto his shoulder and began to make his way back to their headquarters, if the spirit was strong enough to manifest in energy-free objects, or if it was confined to those it could leech off of.

\--

“For God’s sake, James!” Henry exclaimed. “I’m immortal! Even then, I’ve carried heavier mental burdens. I would have made it through!”

Henry was standing, pacing angrily across the small room that made up most of their headquarters. James, on the other hand, was seated on a small wooden chair, looking up at Henry while appearing understandably tired. He made no attempt at a reply.

“Why, James?” Henry asked, his voice forcibly calm. James could tell he’d make a good father—or a terrifying one. “There may be a chance that the baker dies now. We could have saved him!”

“We still will,” James replied, sounding more convinced of his words than he was himself. “There’s still time?”

“Is there?” Henry asked dangerously, his eyes flashing.

It was a rare moment when James got to experience Henry’s anger, and he was thankful it didn’t happen often. The man kept so much inside of him, that when it all burst out it came forth like a volcano’s eruption, spewing hot fury around anything near him.

“There is,” James said, keeping his voice as steady as he could muster. “You know this better than I.”

Henry sighed and buried his face in his hands, letting his pacing slow to a halt as he let out a short groan. “I know, it’s just that I—” he paused for just a moment, lifting his head from his hands and appearing to be reconsidering his words. “James, I—I’m sorry. Your actions are understandable.”

“Hey, hey,” James said, standing up to draw Henry into a hug. “I accept your apology, and I suppose I should say that I’m sorry too. I know what you’re capable of, and I trust you, and you probably could have done it, but even though you’re immortal, I still have concerns for your safety.”

Henry accepted the gesture, returning the hug warmly. “And of course I forgive you as well,” Henry replied, his voice muffled by the fabric over James’s shoulder. “We ought to work quickly though. We’ve work in an hour and only a while after that before the sun sets again.”

James nodded and looked up at the map of New York they’d adhered to the wall above the desk. “Let’s consider what we know and work down from there.”

They marked the places on the map first with the locations of the bakery and the hospital in which the baker was currently residing and traced quick routes lined with lamp posts that could lead from point A to point B.

Henry had confirmed that the spirit was indeed confined to energy sources. The strength of the furnace had been what had given it so much power when they’d tried to coax the spirit into passing, but it was solely the work of the source object and not that of the strength of the spirit itself. It could still be saved.

It turned out that James splashing the water on it had been effective at weakening it the furnace strength and had chased the spirit out of it. Though it could prove to be only temporary, Henry suggested that the spirit would, most likely, start trying to make its way to the hospital. It would take energy to move from place to place, so it wouldn’t have been worth its while before to try to migrate there before, especially when it had all the time in the world. However, since remaining there had ended up becoming more troublesome than migrating to the hospital, Henry could say with a good amount of certainty that it was indeed on the run.

“I don’t suppose you know which of these routes has the least number of lamp posts?” James asked.

Henry gave a short laugh. “I may know a lot of things, but I have, unfortunately, never familiarized myself with the number of streetlamps on each street of New York.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Henry,” James said with a shake of his head, though he was unable to hide the good humor that shone on his face. “We still have a chance to count them during work today.”

“Sounds good,” Henry replied, and he sketched out the routes that they’d discovered into a small notebook before tearing it out and handing it to James. “You go ahead first,” he said. “I’ll catch up with you. You are the one with a morning appointment today, after all.”

James accepted it, folding it up and sliding into one of his coat pockets. “We’ll meet up here at dusk?” he asked.

Henry nodded. “Of course.”

\--

“I counted less this way,” James said, looking down at the map in his hand, as he traced his finger over the map up on the wall.

Henry help up his own map and compared it to the route James had suggested. “That looks about right.” He paused and then checked clock for the time. “The spirit will be active soon.”

“We ought to hurry,” James said, taking his coat off from the rack and handing Henry his. “Promise you won’t overdo it this time?”

Henry gave him a small smile. “I promise.”

\--

It was dark and cold outside, and the pale spots of light the streetlamps cast over the ground offered no solace for their fears.

James steered Henry through the deserted streets as they treaded over the cobblestone trying to keep at quiet as possible. Henry’s eyes were closed, his mind spread out, open and searching for the spirit. James, on the other hand, kept his eyes wide open as he looked over the lamps, hoping to see a shadow pass over one of them.

“Nothing,” James reported when they reached the end of the street and turned Henry towards the direction of the next one.

They made it half way through this street before Henry’s head snapped up, pointing to one of the lampposts of the other side of the it.

James kept his eyes trained on it until, sure enough, the light flickered for a brief second.

“It’s gathering up the energy it needs to move on to the next one,” Henry whispered.

James nodded. They needed to work quickly, before the spirit gained too much strength for them to handle. He grasped Henry’s hand in his and closed his eyes. The first action wasn’t strictly necessary, but he was compelled to at least try it. Perhaps a physical connection would strengthen their joined mental strength.

And then he reached out.

The roaring bonfire of fury had diminished to a small spark of anger, but it was growing.

_Calm down_ , he tried to convey without putting it into words. _There is no need for anger._

It lashed out at him impudently but he prevailed, struggling to maintain the connection. He thought of calm times and happy times and then he thought of death. He looked deep inside of himself and felt fear. But he also felt a level of acceptance, a fact that he would, indeed, one day die. That one day he would pass and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, and that, when that happened, he would go peacefully. For Henry’s sake.

For his own.

And he pushed this out of him and into the spirit.

Henry’s hand tightened around his own, and suddenly the pressure on his mind was gone. He reached out and was met with silence. There was nothing there.

James took in a deep breath of the cold, city air and opened his eyes slowly. The glass surrounding the light that the spirit had been in had burst out and littered the ground.

Henry was staring at him, his eyes bright and shining and his hand still grasping James’s tightly.

“We did it,” James breathed, winded but happy. The feeling of success that came with missions such as these was surprisingly strong, as if their work was more important than he knew it to be. He supposed each mission was a brush with death, and to return from one alive was reason enough to celebrate.

Henry nodded in response, most likely too tired to speak. Were it not as cold as it was, they would have been too warm for the hug they were now sharing. But the night air chilled the sweat that dripped down the cheeks and soaked through their shirts making the action bearable—even pleasant.

James choked out a relieved laugh and tightened his grasp, tilting his head slightly so that it leaned against Henry’s. In a few seconds, Henry joined him in his strained laughter. Together, any passerby would have doubtlessly assumed them to have been drunk.

“We should clean this up,” Henry said at last, taking a brush out from his coat.

James replied with a short nod and joined him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Encyclopedia entries will be added to chapters in which I introduce new concepts. I'm just really concerned because I don't want to jam in a ton of information into the story, but I still don't want to confuse you guys, especially since I'm loosely building this AU of out a ton of other shows and stuff, only a few of which I'm actually conscious of.  
> (Including:  
> SPN  
> Mushishi?  
> Sleepy Hollow)  
> 


	3. The Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demons!AU Encyclopedia Entry  
> Lower Demons  
> These demons are capable of partial human possession, meaning, they are unable to maintain complete control of their human host 100% of the time. In order to counteract this, they tend to work for only a few hours at a time before they hibernate, returning control to their unknowing host. While they are in control, they possess superhuman strength. They are also capable of minor telekinesis, which allows them to move a small number of relatively small inanimate objects with a good amount of strength. Finally, they can drain energy present within pretty much anything, but only so much. Thus, this is why the area around them tends to be colder.  
> When they are in control, the possessed human is completely unconscious. The only exceptions to this contain the well trained mind which may be able to maintain a level of consciousness while the demon is in control, which may allow them to fight back. While hibernating, the demon will still maintain a connection to the host’s internal functions, often causing their metabolism to go awry. Thus, the host may feel hotter or colder or need to eat more or less than they normally would. While they are active, they emit small amounts of sulphur, making the area around them smell like sulfur.  
> Weaknesses include holy water, crucifixes, pure rock salt, and truly consecrated ground. However, these are only effective when the demon is in control. You can force a demon to emerge by making the host unconscious and forcing holy water into them. Holy water does not mix well with demons and will, if ingested, make them weaker, or, if contact is made externally, simulate a burn. Crucifixes act like a repellant, like similar poles on two very strong magnets. A demon cannot cross a line of or cause a break in a line of pure rock salt. However, only closed shapes made of rock salt are really effective. A demon cannot enter consecrated ground or they die. (Consecrated ground like legitimate holy lands, but not like a chapel. A go big or go home type of situation.)  
> An exorcism incantation must be in a language the demon can understand and will only cause them to be sent back from whence they came. However, it is the most effective process currently known.

"I think we've got a case of demonic possession," James said as he entered into Henry's and his shared apartment, his hair dripping wet from the rain.

Henry looked up from the book he was reading and tossed James a towel. "did something happen?" he asked.

James caught it awkwardly, caught between setting down his briefcase and taking off his coat and hat. "One of my new patients," James explained, holding the towel in the crook of his arm as he hung his soaked outer clothes on the coat rack and set his suitcase down by the radiator, "He's been having blackouts, losing time, keeps waking up in places he doesn't remember falling asleep in." He paused seeing the look of apprehension on Henry's face.

"There are other causes of such symptoms other than demonic possession," Henry replied quietly.

"I know it's been decades since the last time you've actually encountered a demon, but I'm sure this is the case here," James said, walking across the room to pick up one of the few books they kept in the apartment. Flipping through it, he found the chapter on demons, and pointed out the information as he said it out loud. "He, Ignatius--Ignatius Brown," he said, supplying his patient's name, "has told me he's been smelling rotting eggs--sulfur. His metabolism's off completely, and like I mentioned earlier, blackouts."

Henry stared at the page for a moment hour, his eyebrows furrowed. "If you're certain," he said at last. "We can definitely check up on him, to see if there's anything we can do to help him, even if he isn't possessed. I do hope you were able to hide any suspicion you may have had during his appointment?"

James nodded. "Of course. I've also instructed him to try to get more rest and drink some more water. Nothing really quite medical; I wanted to consult you first."

Henry mulled over this information. "When have you arranged to meet up with him again?"

"Two days from now, first thing in the morning," James replied, prepared.

"Then we've got two nights to prepare and for you to practice...just in case," Henry added.

\--

They hurried over to the overhang and huddled under for it for a second to catch their breath.

"I thought the papers said it was going to be clear today," James said between gasps.

"That was the prediction," Henry replied, trying to brush as much water out of his hair as he could.

James sighed and turned around to face the building. "Ignatius's apartment is on the upper floor."

Henry nodded and opened the door, letting James in first. After a quick journey up a flight of stairs, James located Ignatius's door and gave it a quick rap.

Coughing could be heard inside, followed by the sound of footfalls growing increasingly louder as they neared the door. The door opened with a creak, only slightly at first, showing the face of an extremely tired man.

"it's James Carter," James said, softly, moving over slightly so that Ignatius could see him. "I've brought my colleague, Dr. Morgan. I think he can help you."

"Ah, James!" Ignatius rasped, his face lighting up slightly as he moved back to open the door to let both men in, shaking their hands as they entered. "Come in! Go ahead, make yourselves at home."

"Thank you," Henry said graciously, hanging up his coat at the door. James could see he was trying but struggled to hold back surprise. About what, however, he was uncertain. "I've heard from James about the severity of your condition. I'd like to see if there's anything I can do, if you would be amiable towards it."

They moved to the small living room, and, at Henry's request, Ignatius reclined on the couch.

After performing the routine checkup, Henry said, "I know you've probably already told James the answers to these questions, but I'd appreciate them if you could repeat them for me."

Ignatius nodded.

"Great," Henry said and proceeded. "How have you been feeling recently?"

"Tired," he replied. "though I seem to be sleeping a bit more." He hesitated, but Henry gave him an encouraging smile. "I think I'm going crazy," he mumbled. "I've been...I've been waking up in strange places, and sometimes when I look at the time I realize there are hours long gaps in my memory."

Henry nodded thoughtfully. "I have an idea of what your problem is, but I'd like to speak to James about it first, just in case." He frowned. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

"No," Ignatius replied, though he was visibly concerned. "You don't think it's something really bad, is it?"

"Hopefully not," was all Henry said before pushing James out of the room.

"He's definitely possessed," was the first thing that came out of Henry's mouth the second they were out of earshot.

"You're certain?" James asked.

"Entirely," Henry replied. "I could feel it when we shook hands, and what he says matches up with your report."

James glanced worriedly at the door, remaining silent.

“I know you’ve prepared for this,” Henry said, "but if you don't feel like you're up for an exorcism, then I can handle it myself."

James swallowed the lump that came up into his throat. "No, I'm fine," he said, steeling himself. "I can do this."

Henry gave him a look of concern. Nevertheless, he opened the door, letting James in first. "We've found a solution to your illness," he said calmly, digging into his medical bag for flask of holy water and a bottle of sleeping pills. "It's takes a rather specific cure, but it's well tested and it requires you to be unconscious. Is that okay?"

James resisted the urge to look at Henry with alarm. The man was always painfully straightforward with things like these. If was he was saying didn't sound suspicious enough, the way he rattled the bottle of pills in his hands didn't make him look any the less a mad scientist.

However, it seemed that Ignatius's desperation with his condition was enough to blur the lines. "Are you certain it will work?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"Completely," Henry replied and James aided, giving a small but encouraging nod.

“Very well,” Ignatius said with a shrug. “Do what you must.”

“Do you happen to have a glass?” Henry asked, and Ignatius pointed him towards the pantry.

While Henry was gone, James explained to Ignatius what he needed to do. “It’s pretty straightforward,” he said. “Henry will just bring you a glass of water and two sleeping pills. All you need to do is take them with the water and fall asleep.” He couldn’t help but feel guilty about not telling him what they really were going to do, but he understood the need to keep their, Henry’s and his, world a secret. “While you’re unconscious, your breathing will slow and the rest of your body will begin to require less energy to perform its tasks. That will help the effects of our cure.”

“What exactly is the cure?” Ignatius asked. It sounded more as it were a routine question--there was no interest in his voice--but James thought it right to answer him, despite giving him a false answer.

“It’s a mix of external physical therapy and a medicine we’ve included in the sleeping pills,” James replied. “It’s been tried out before, and we can confirm that it works. You’ve probably not heard much of it, considering that research for this illness is fairly new. It’s just been mistaken for insanity for the longest time.”

Ignatius nodded, seeming content. Henry appeared in the living room a moment later, holding a glass of holy water and the sleeping pills.

“Here,” James said, taking them from Henry and handing them to Ignatius. “You should be well on your way to health by the time you wake up.”

Ignatius accepted the pills and the water, taking his time to swallow both before handing the cup to James who placed it on the small table nearby.

It didn’t take long for Ignatius to fall asleep, but only moments later after he’d seemed to have drifted off, he bolted upright, coughing violently and clutching his stomach.

James forced himself to hold his ground as his trembling hands reaching inside his coat, feeling for the crucifix he’d brought, ready to take it out at a moment’s notice.

And then Ignatius--no, not Ignatius--stopped coughing and slowly opened his eyelids as his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Oh? What’s this?” the demon laughed, looking around as the temperature in the room began to drop.

James immediately whipped the crucifix out, holding it out in front of him. To his right, Henry mimicked the action, pulling his own out from his bag.

“I haven’t seen anything like this in years,” the demon commented, looking between the two of them and leaning back against the couch. He looked as if he was trying to look relaxed, yet he still seemed to be uncomfortable with his current situation. “I can’t exactly say I'm happy to see you.”

“Why are you here,” Henry asked, keeping his voice level.

“It appears I’ve gotten my timing a bit wrong,” the demon replied with a slight raise of his shoulders. “Time doesn’t exactly exist where I come from. Gives us a hell of a _time_ organizing everything.”

“That’s not an answer,” Henry said.

“I’m aware,” the demon replied flippantly. “Now why don’t we get down to the fun stuff?” He raised his hand and the fire iron from beside the fireplace lifted up with the sharp side pointing towards Henry.

Henry immediately moved the crucifix to his left hand and took hold of the other iron, knocking the iron aside as it moved through the air in an attempt to stab through him. “James, incantation!” he yelled as he parried another blow.

“Right,” James said, his sweaty hands and shaky arms, barely managing to hold the crucifix up. He took a deep breath and then started chanting.

“ _For while we ex--_ ”

James was interrupted by a loud laugh from the demon.

“Come on,” he taunted. “Saying it like that with a waver in your voice isn’t going to get me to go anywhere.

James threw a worried glance towards Henry who was still fencing with the floating fire iron. There was not as much strength in each of his parries as there was when the fight began. Who knew how much longer he could hold out for.

James closed his eyes. He needed to calm down, to get a handle on thing, to say the incantation with strength and meaning.

“ _For a while we expect death at the end of our lives. We cann--_ ” 

A book came flying from the demon’s direction and James had to duck to avoid getting hit.

“ _We cannot_ ,” he repeated, irritated, “ _stand to have it living here amongst us as if it were one in the same._ ”

The demon looked up with mild concern before he turned all of his attention back to his fight with Henry, who didn’t look like he could handle much more. “James!” Henry managed to exclaim, knocking another flying book out of the air before it hit the other.

James nodded frantically and continued. “A force of evil as great as one of the children of death hold no place among the land of hope and living. We comment this creature unto you who listen. Return them to their place of beginning.”

The fire iron clattered to the floor and Ignatius slumped forward, his eyes fluttering shut. Slowly but surely, the warmth returned to the room.

“We’re alive,” James said, surprised, lowering his arms. “We’re actually alive.”

Henry nodded, letting go of the fire iron before lowering himself to the floor, taking shallow breaths. “We did it,” he said with a small smile.

“I’ll clean up?” James offered. When he heard no objection, he moved about the room, straightening things up and putting them back where they belonged. Finally, he fixed Ignatius’s position and joined Henry on the floor.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Henry said with a short nod. “Just out of breath.” He laughed. “You won’t believe how much I used to fight with my father about my fencing lessons. I just never deemed them important enough, and yet…”

“At least it gives you something good to remember him by,” James said, patting Henry lightly on his shoulder. “Now let’s commit this moment to memory.” He turned to Henry with a wide grin on his face. “We literally exorcised a demon. I think that’s a definite victory.”

Henry scowled at him. “Sure it was a victory, but I don’t think you were ready for that. You could’ve died.”

“Don’t dwell on the past so much,” James said, knocking his shoulder against Henry’s. “What matters is that we made it through a battle with a literal demon and we’ll be even more prepared for the next one.”

“Hopefully there will be no next one,” Henry said.

“Hopefully,” James replied, “but what you did manage to get out of that demon wasn’t exactly promising.”

Henry turned to face him mischief in his eyes. “Now who’s being the downer?”

James rolled his eyes but couldn't resist grinning wider. “You're right. Let’s celebrate the now.”

\--

Ignatius woke up around an hour later, holding his head in his hands.

“How are you feeling?” James said, standing up and turning away from the small talk he'd been partaking in to pass the time.

“I've got a headache,” he replied, “but I do feel a lot better. Less tired.”

Henry smiled, standing up as well. “The cure worked well then.”

“Be sure to rest up for a few more days,” James added. “After that, though, you can return to whatever work you have.”

“Ah, yeah, about that,” Ignatius said, sitting up and laughing nervously. “I’m not exactly well off financially. I don't know if I have enough to pay you for your services.”

“There are other ways to pay someone off than through money,” James said. “I’ve told you this before.”

Ignatius nodded, a relieved smile settling on his face. “Would you dine with me occasionally as a way of payment?”

“Of course,” Henry replied, picking up his bag, as he walked towards the door, picking up his damp coat and slinging it over his shoulder. “Come now, James. Let’s not bother Ignatius any further. He needs his rest.”

“Alright, Henry,” James said with a laugh. Throwing one last glance towards Ignatius, he followed Henry out the door, leaving a passing, “Don’t stress yourself out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the whole thing about it being a Demons!AU actually fits.
> 
> Also plot.


End file.
